The First Reach
>There is a moment no one sees.
Not the bloom. Not the leaf.
Not even the sunlight.
It happens beneath.
Quiet.
Certain.
Without applause.
The seed feels it before it understands it-
the pulse.
The pull.
The undeniable nudge toward motion.
Not for show.
Not for proof.
But because that is what the seed was always meant to do.
To reach.
Not knowing what waits above.
Not needing a promise.
Only sensing that the soil has given all it can- and that it’s time.
This is the First Reach.
It is not loud.
But it is holy.
It says:
> “I do not know the way.
But I trust the urge to rise.”
“I am not finished.
But I am beginning again.”
Respect whispers:
The soil did not leave you. It made you strong.
Awareness replies:
You are not lost. You are moving.
Diligence adds:
You don’t need the whole sky. Just one breath of light.